


There Is No Universal Wish Granting Factory

by professionalmomfriend (mothmanwashere)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Christmas, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Texting, i don't know what else to tag they're so dumb and avoiding their feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-03 12:50:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8714620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothmanwashere/pseuds/professionalmomfriend
Summary: “I think the universe has better things to do than grant wishes,” he says by way of explanation.“What’s the point of wishing if you don’t hope it will come true?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first fic for a new fandom is always the hardest, so here's hoping this gets the awkwardness out of my system.

The air is starting to chill when Lance pulls up in front of Hunk’s place for dinner.  As he steps out of his metallic blue sedan, shoes crunching against the tar of the parking lot, Lance takes a deep breath and swears he can smell snow on the horizon.  He smiles at the thought, pockets his keys, and heads up the little grassy incline toward Hunk’s ground-floor patio door.

Knocking is a thing of the past, because Lance isn’t a patient person.  Hunk has come to expect this, and has never really minded anyway.  He and Lance have come and gone freely from each other’s houses since they were eight years old and growing up down the street from one another.  In lieu of knocking, Lance pushes open the door and yells, “Hunky, I’m home!” as he toes off his shoes near the door.

“Kitchen, Lance!” Hunk’s voice returns from deeper within the apartment. 

Lance follows the sound as easily as breathing, pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket as he walks.  There’s a small crowd gathered in the kitchen and Lance’s grin spreads wide across his face.  “Que bola, bitches.  Party can start any time now.”

“Hi Lance,” Pidge chirps.  She’s seated on the kitchen counter, stocking feet tucked cross-legged beneath her as she stirs something in the large bowl she has situated in the hollow of her legs.  Hunk’s testing something on the stove, looking satisfied.  Shiro’s there too, sitting at the breakfast bar watching Pidge stir vigorously.

“How’s it going, Lance?” Shiro asks, and maybe it’s just the way Shiro is, but Lance can tell he’s actually interested.  He stands up to shake Lance’s hand in greeting, the cool metal of Shiro’s prosthetic meeting Lance’s warm, tanned skin before Shiro pulls him into a brief hug.  “It’s been too long.”

“Yeah, no kidding, Officer Big Shot,” Lance jokes.  “Thanks for making time for a humble civilian.”

“That’s Captain Big Shot, now, Lance,” Pidge corrects, a smile playing at the edge of her lips. 

“My bad,” Lance says with a laugh, touching his chest with faux remorse. 

“Wouldn’t’ve missed it for the world, Lance,” Shiro chuckles, patting Lance’s shoulder fondly.

“Still stuck teaching those snot-nosed teenagers at the Garrison?”

Shiro smiles.  “As always.  What’ve you been up to?  Still doing the charter plane thing?”

Lance hesitates, running a hand over the back of his neck.  “Actually, I, uh… had to take some time off from charters to help my parents out.  My dad can’t run the store and do chemo, and my mom’s running herself ragged trying to keep the kids in line and take care of him, so…” Lance trails off uncomfortably.

“I was sorry to hear about your father,” Shiro says sincerely.  “It’s good of you to help your parents out at a time like this.”

“Yeah,” Lance says, letting a lopsided smile work its way back onto his face to ease the tension.  “But enough about that.  Hunk, whatever’s cooking over there smells divine, please tell me it’s almost done.”

“You guys set the table, and I’ll—” the doorbell cuts off the rest of Hunk’s sentence and he simply switches gears.  “Someone let Keith in while I get this ready.”

“Got it!” Pidge yells, taking barely enough time to hand Hunk the bowl she had been holding before flinging herself off the counter and sprinting toward the front door.  Shiro pulls a stack of plates out of the cupboard while Lance retrieves silverware from the drawer.  Shiro takes the silverware from his hands and brushes him away, telling him to relax, but Lance sticks his tongue out at his friend and just grabs an armful of glasses from another cupboard.

“Lance, turn around!” Hunk orders.  “It’s still a surprise.”

Lance obeys, turning toward the doorway that connects the kitchen/dining area to the living room, and comes face to face with the last guest of their little party.  Pidge is hauling Keith bodily toward the dining room when Lance locks eyes with Keith.  Keith quirks a brow, giving Lance a little smile, and Lance has to remind himself to breathe.  Pidge releases Keith to Shiro, who greets him in the same way he had Lance: a handshake, a hug, and a sincere query about his life.  Keith mostly brushes it away with a quick word about his auto shop running smoothly as ever.  Keith turns back towards Lance when Shiro has released him, pinning him with those dark gray eyes Lance would never admit to having dreamt about.

“Happy birthday, Lance,” Keith says, and the words combined with the way Keith is looking at him, not making any sarcastic comments or jabbing remarks for once in their friendship, makes something deep in Lance’s gut twist violently.

“Thanks,” Lance says, hoping he sounds casual and not like he just got punched in the balls.  He’s a grown-ass man, for God’s sake, he shouldn’t have to deal with a stupid crush like this.  Where does Keith get off being so pretty, anyway?

“All right, you ready Lance?” Hunk asks, gripping Lance’s shoulders and turning him toward the table where the feast Hunk prepared has been laid out.  There are waffles, scrambled eggs, banana muffins, bacon, and chocolate milk.  All Lance’s favorite breakfast foods.  “Breakfast for dinner.”

“Aw, Hunk!” Lance exclaims.  “You’re the best, buddy.”

“Happy birthday, man,” Hunk says with a grin, taking his seat at the table beside Lance.  “Twenty-five’s a big one.”

“No numbers, Hunk!” Lance shouts.  “A man deserves to have secrets!”

“You, Keith, and Hunk are all the same age,” Pidge deadpans.  “Give or take a couple months.”

“This is no time for your mutinous comments, Pidge,” Lance retorts.  “It’s my birthday.”

Pidge rolls her eyes, holding back a smile.

“Keith, you got a light?” Hunk asks.  Keith fishes his lighter out of his jeans pocket and passes it to Hunk.  Hunk uses it to light the candle he’s placed in the top of a muffin before putting the muffin on Lance’s plate.  “Make a wish, dude.”

Lance raises a skeptical eyebrow.  “I’m not too old for this?”

“You are definitely too old for this,” Keith comments, drawing Lance’s gaze.  The corners of his mouth quirk up in a smile before he adds, “Wish anyway.”

“Haaaaaappy birthday to you,” they begin to sing as Lance smiles wide and turns his attention toward the flickering flame in front of him.  What do twenty-five-year-old men wish for?  Lance takes a sweeping glance around the table.  Shiro, Pidge, Keith, Hunk.  They’re all here.  They all took time out of their busy, adult lives for Lance; to come sing him happy birthday and eat breakfast food at six pm.  That meant more to Lance than any stupid wish.  But at the same time…

Lance pressed his eyes closed and blew out the candle.  His friends clapped, Pidge and Hunk adding a cheer.

“What’d you wish for?” Hunk asks excitedly as soon as Lance opens his eyes.

“You ask that every year,” Lance laughs.

“And one of these years, you’ll tell me!” Hunk says.

“If he tells you it won’t come true,” Shiro chuckles.

“That’s a superstition I’ve never understood,” Keith says, and all eyes turn to look at him.

“Mr. Cryptid-fucker doesn’t believe in a superstition?” Pidge asks incredulously.  “Who are you and what have you done with Keith?”

Keith rolls his eyes.  “I think the universe has better things to do than grant wishes,” he says by way of explanation.  “So if you tell your wish to someone, then maybe someone actually has the chance to make it happen.”

“That kinda makes sense,” Hunk agrees.  “So spill Lance!”

“Fuck no!” Lance laughs.  “I don’t care if the universe grants it or not.  It’s the principal of the thing.”

“You wouldn’t have wished for it if you didn’t want it to be granted,” Keith argues.

“He has a point,” Pidge joins in.  “What’s the point of wishing if you don’t hope it will come true?”

“I didn’t say I don’t want it to come true, I just said I’m not telling you guys what I wished for!” Lance plucks the candle out of his muffin and stuffs the whole thing into his mouth at once.  “Enf of dis-cuthon.”

Lance doesn’t look up to confirm, but he thinks he feels Keith’s eyes linger on him just a moment longer than everyone else’s.

 

* * *

 

 

Dinner is as lively an affair as always.  Whenever the five of them manage to gather in one place, Lance always leaves with aching ribs and a grin that just won’t fade, and tonight is no exception.  He can’t pinpoint a reason for the giddy feeling in his stomach.  After dinner, they take to the living room for beer and a viewing of Lance’s favorite Disney movie – Alladin.  Things perfectly acceptable to celebrate Lance’s 25th trip around the sun.  By the time the movie’s over, they’ve talked over most of it, sang over the rest, Lance has spent ten minutes extricating Hunk’s cat from the Velcro of his sneakers after she got her fur caught in it, and Pidge has the hiccups.  “I gotta get going,” Keith says finally, reluctantly.  He stands, but turns to Lance before moving any further.  “Walk me out?”

Lance nods easily, swinging his legs down from where they’ve been resting across Hunk’s lap and standing to follow Keith.  The others have a chorus of goodbyes for him, hugs and waves from each of the others, before Keith grabs his jacket off the floor and leads Lance out of Hunk’s apartment.

“Still riding that thing?” Lance asks as Keith pauses beside his beloved motorcycle.  "It's November."

“Lola isn't afraid of the cold,” Keith responds, patting the handlebars affectionately.  He moves toward the back of the bike, dipping his hand into the saddlebags, and pulls out a box wrapped in old newsprint.  “Little something I picked up at an auction this summer,” he says by way of explanation.

“Hunk was supposed to put no presents on the invitations,” Lance grumbles, even as he takes the package from Keith’s hands.

“He did,” Keith said with a tiny smirk.  “That’s why I didn’t bring it inside.”

"I didn't get you anything, though."

"It's not my birthday, so who cares?"

Lance carefully unwinds the paper from where it’s taped to the package to reveal a little wooden box with a brass latch and hinges.  There was a lion head profile carved into the top.  “This is so rad, dude,” Lance says quietly, reverently brushing his fingers across the mane etched into the wood.

“Open it,” Keith prompts, eyes on Lance’s fingers.

Lance flips the little latch and lifts the lid.  In the bottom of the box, there’s a tiny, crude figurine made of clay.  “Dude… is that Mothman?”

“For protection,” Keith says, but Lance can hear the trace of amusement lining his words.

Lance rolls his eyes, shoving Keith’s chest with one hand.  “You giant dork.”

“Don’t come crying to me when Mothman makes his return and the disloyal are eaten.”

“Is that really the superstition around Mothman?”

“No,” Keith scoffs.  “Cryptids have been linked to deaths before but I'm almost positive that's more people's stupidity than malice on the cryptid's part.”

“Supposedly,” Lance says.

“I’ll put you in a headlock and show you Nessie footage, Lance, don’t fucking try me.”  Keith can’t quite put on a serious enough face to make the threat convincing, and Lance laughs at him.  Eventually Keith shrugs, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets.  “I saw the box when I was at this big parts auction and thought of you, but couldn’t think of anything good to put inside.”

“Mothman’s a logical jump from that point,” Lance agrees, his smile feeling permanently etched into the corners of his mouth.

“My point exactly,” Keith says, and he’s grinning too.

“Thanks, Keith.”

“You’re welcome,” Keith says easily, pulling out his key ring and unlocking the ignition of his bike.  “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks for coming out tonight,” Lance says, crossing his arms over his chest and curling his toes under themselves to keep the cold from seeping in through his socks.  He should’ve put his shoes back on.  The smell of snow is even stronger than earlier, and there’s an extra bite in the wind now that it’s fully dark.  “I’m sure I'll see you later this week.”

“No sweat,” Keith says, spreading his arms to hug Lance.  They embrace with the familiarity that only old friends can have.  Lance isn’t sure if he’s more welcoming of Keith’s body heat, or just Keith.  He pulls back sooner than he wants to.

“Hey,” Lance says, noticing the flakes starting to accumulate on the distressed leather of Keith’s jacket.  He grins widely.  “It’s snowing.”

“Whaddaya know?” Keith chuckles, watching Lance stick his tongue out to catch a flake on the tip.  “You sure you don’t wanna tell me what your birthday wish was, Lance?”

Lance freezes, tongue in the air and heart in his throat, and slowly lowers his head to look back at Keith.  Does he want to tell Keith that the only image in Lance’s head when he blew out that candle were his soulful gray eyes and stupid, gorgeous mullet? 

No. 

Did he want his wish to come true? 

Well. 

He wouldn’t have made it otherwise.

Lance can’t quite recall the motion of moving forward, he just knows that one second he was there, inches from Keith’s face, and the next he’s pressing his mouth against the soft, red lips he’s tried for so long not to stare at.  It’s simple – there’s no instant where it turns hot and needy, like it’s the last piece in a puzzle they’ve been trying to put together for the five years they’ve known each other.  It’s chaste and gentle, the soft press of Lance’s lips against Keith’s.  Three seconds – no more, no less – and then they’re broken apart by the sound of Pidge screaming through the open door, and even though they can’t see the front door from where they are, there’s still that wave of hot embarrassment that washes past at the idea of being caught.  “Lance!  Hunk’s cat is stuck in your stupid shoe again!”

Lance turns toward the building, just to shout that he’s on his way and he’ll be right there.  In the time it takes, Keith’s already swung himself over his bike, put all his weight on the starter, and roars out of the parking lot loudly enough to drown out Lance’s call for him to wait.  Lance watches the bright red tail light gradually shrink until it turns at the end of the street and disappears entirely.  A snowflake hits the tip of his nose and brings Lance back to himself.

Lance touches his hand to his mouth – fingers icy against the memory of Keith’s warmth on his lips.  He takes a moment to breathe, schools his expression, then heads inside to extricate Hunk’s overly curious feline from his shoe.

If he’s quiet the rest of the night, no one mentions it.  Lance can’t pry his mind away from the instant in which Keith pulled away.  The instant Lance’s chances with Keith came crashing down around him in a million shattered pieces.  The instant Lance probably lost one of his best friends because of a selfish birthday wish that he should have kept to himself.

Wishes are stupid, anyway.  The universe has better things to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> deciding text format was the best way to go with this chapter was the worst decision i ever made
> 
> I realized seven pages into this chapter that Keith's chat name was the only one that isn't a pun on his real name oops so here's a handy dandy conversion chart just so you don't get confused
> 
> Keith - MothmanLives  
> Hunk - Hunkules  
> Pidge - quoththepidgeon  
> Lance - LanceLanceRevolution  
> Shiro - ShiroToHero  
> Allura - AllurNothing

**_November 21_ **

_[07:18] MothmanLives: i won’t be in to the shop today.  you alright on your own?_

_[07:25] Hunkules: Of course dude.  Have a good one._

_[09:43] quoththepidgeon: hunk said you didn’t come to work today_

_[09:43] quoththepidgeon: you ok_

_[11:04] quoththepidgeon: do you want me to bring you soup_

_[12:18] quoththepidgeon: where the fuck are you??_

_[12:19] quoththepidgeon: im at your apartment_

_[12:25] quoththepidgeon: no soup for you_

_[15:31] quoththepidgeon: did you drop your phone into an oil change vat again_

_[20:42] MothmanLives: sorry i'm not home_

_[20:43] quoththepidgeon: no shit Sherlock_

_[20:43] quoththepidgeon: where are you?_

_[20:46] MothmanLives: idaho_

**_Pidge [Katherine Holt] is calling you_ **

**_Accept  |  Decline_ **

_[21:14] quoththepidgeon: you better be back for thanksgiving_

_[21:29] Hunkules: What do they have in Idaho that we don’t have in Washington?_

_[21:30] MothmanLives: goddamnit pidge_

_[21:31] MothmanLives: this is probably a good time to mention i won’t be at work again tomorrow_

_[21:32] MothmanLives: sorry_

_[21:32] Hunkules: It’s alright man, take all the time you need_

_[21:34] Hunkules: You okay though?_

_[21:37] MothmanLives: more or less_

_[21:37] MothmanLives: just gotta get away sometimes you know?_

_[21:38] MothmanLives: i do have a line on a new parts distributor that i’m trying to meet with so this isn’t a total wash for you_

_[21:40] Hunkules: I can dig it.  Lemme know if you need anything, man_

_[21:40] MothmanLives: thanks hunk_

 

**_November 22_ **

_[11:59] quoththepidgeon: how long are you going to be gone im bored_

_[13:17] MothmanLives: i dunno_

_[13:18] quoththepidgeon: did you even plan anything about this out_

_[13:21] quoththepidgeon: you didnt did you_

_[13:30] quoththepidgeon: goddamn it keith_

_[13:30] quoththepidgeon: what are you even hoping to accomplish in the desert_

_[14:49] MothmanLives: i don’t know_

_[14:50] quoththepidgeon: that response does nothing to curb my growing concern_

_[14:51] quoththepidgeon: you know youre going to have to tell me what triggered this sooner or later_

_[14:52] quoththepidgeon: sooner gets it out of the way but you know im a persistent motherfucker_

_[15:12] MothmanLives: i know_

_[15:13] MothmanLives: i'll keep you posted_

_[15:15] quoththepidgeon: you better_

_[15:15] quoththepidgeon: i have absolutely no qualms with kicking your ass in the desert if you dont_

 

_[11:03] LanceLanceRevolution: yo we still on for tonight big cat?_

_[11:20] LanceLanceRevolution: hunk?_

_[11:21] LanceLanceRevolution: hunk_

_[11:21] LanceLanceRevolution: hunkules_

_[11:21] LanceLanceRevolution: hunka hunka burning hunk_

_[11:22] LanceLanceRevolution: hunky monkey_

_[11:22] LanceLanceRevolution: hunkle stan_

_[11:22] Hunkules: Jesus Lance, cut it out_

_[11:22] LanceLanceRevolution: hunklaration of indehunkness_

_[11:22] LanceLanceRevolution: oh there you are_

_[11:23] Hunkules: Sorry man, I’ve had my work cut out for me with Keith gone_

_[11:24] LanceLanceRevolution: mullet man take the morning off for some beauty sleep?_

_[11:32] Hunkules: Oh you didn’t hear?_

_[11:33] Hunkules: Keith up and took off a couple days ago_

_[11:33] LanceLanceRevolution: holy shit?! What?_

_[11:34] Hunkules: Yeah man, decided to do some soul searching or something. He was kinda skinny on the details_

_[11:35] LanceLanceRevolution: whens he coming back?_

_[11:36] Hunkules: Beats me, but if it’s not soon I’m gonna have to get another set of hands in here to help me_

_[11:37] Hunkules: I’m getting way more backed up than I thought I would on my own_

_[11:38] LanceLanceRevolution: if you need a hand hit me up_

_[11:38] LanceLanceRevolution: I know my way around a wrench ;)_

_[11:41] Hunkules: … Why do you make that sound like an innuendo?_

_[11: 41] Hunkules:  Only you could make that sound like an innuendo_

_[11:42] LanceLanceRevolution: ;) ;) ;)_

**_November 23_ **

_[00:00] quoththepidgeon: hope the desert gives you a noogie_

_[00:02] MothmanLives: thanks pidge_

_[00:03] quoththepidgeon: shiro and allura are coming for thanksgiving eve_

_[00:04] quoththepidgeon: will we see you there_

_[02:34] quoththepidgeon: message received_

_[02:34] quoththepidgeon: or lack thereof_

_[12:00] quoththepidgeon: where the fuck even are you right now?_

_[12:00] MothmanLives: a diner outside tuscon_

_[12:01] quoththepidgeon: theres nothing good in arizona keith why are you there_

_[12:02] quoththepidgeon: (thats me getting more impatient waiting for the explanation)_

_[12:05] MothmanLives: happy thanksgiving pidge_

_[12:06] quoththepidgeon: my patience will run out eventually kogane_

_[12:06] quoththepidgeon: mark my words_

_[14:15] quoththepidgeon: i might have spilled a few of your beans to shiro so i would highly recommend calling him before he throws his prosthetic arm out the bay window or steals alluras car in a blind mission to track you down in the buttfuck middle of the desert_

_[14:15] MothmanLives: fucking hell pidge_

**_You called Shiro [Takashi Shirogane] at 14:16_ **

**_Message  |  Redial_ **

_[21:23] quoththepidgeon: you are missing our traditional post-turkey "get trashed" fest_

_[21:23] quoththepidgeon: its our favorite holiday tradition_

_[21:34] quoththepidgeon: this is possibly an unforgivable offense_

_[21:26] MothmanLives: have one for me pidge_

_[21:27] quoththepidgeon: oh i assure you we have_

_[21:27] quoththepidgeon: lance is currently trying to outdrink allura so you know hes fucked_

_[21:28] MothmanLives: no one can outdrink allura_

_[21:28] MothmanLives: many have tried and suffered a hangover worse than death_

_[21:29] quoththepidgeon: i warned him dog_

_[21:30] quoththepidgeon: speaking of LANCE by the way..._

_[21:32] MothmanLives: ….?_

_[21:33] quoththepidgeon: he seemed very dejected when he found out you were still out of town_

_[21:34] quoththepidgeon: he kind of flinched every time your name came up too_

_[21:36] MothmanLives: i don’t have a lance handbook pidge_

_[21:36] MothmanLives: what’s your point?_

_[21:37] quoththepidgeon: more of a theory_

_[21:37] quoththepidgeon: and we both know how much you loooooooove theories_

_[21:38] quoththepidgeon: i realized a little while ago that you were last seen leaving hunks apartment with lance_

_[21:38] quoththepidgeon: upon his return to the party lance said all of three words the rest of the night_

_[21:38] quoththepidgeon: and you disappeared the very next morning_

_[21:39] quoththepidgeon: im just putting two and two together_

_[21:43] quoththepidgeon: should i take your lack of response as a point of support for my hypothesis?_

**_November 24_ **

_[00:00] quoththepidgeon: happy hunksgiving ayylmao_

_[00:03] MothmanLives: how many wine coolers has pidge had exactly_

_[00:05] ShiroToHero: Oh good lord._

_[00:10] quoththepidgeon: shirp took my drink and i blame yu from 1000 milmes away_

_[00:10] quoththepidgeon: *shiro_

_[00:12] MothmanLives: it’s for the best pidge_

_[00:12] MothmanLives: happy thanksgiving_

_[11:42] quoththepidgeon: my least favorite part of our thanksgiving eve tradition is the thanksgiving morning hangover_

_[11:44] MothmanLives: just think of that second huge, greasy dinner your mom is making for tonight_

_[11:46] quoththepidgeon: fuck you keith kogane_

_[11:46] quoththepidgeon: just_

_[11:46] quoththepidgeon: fuck you_

_[17:43] LanceLanceRevolution: most moms would ask when their son is going to bring a nice girl home_

_[17:43] LanceLanceRevolution: not mine_

_[17:44] LanceLanceRevolution: you know what she asked me tonight during dinner?_

_[17:44] LanceLanceRevolution: “How’s Hunk?”_

_[17:45] Hunkules: Listen man, it’s not my fault your mom loves me ;)_

_[17:46] LanceLanceRevolution: she wants pictures of you and your girlfriend and asked me to give her your phone number_

_[17:47] Hunkules: I think I still have hers.  I’ll text her some pictures from our anniversary_

_[17:48] LanceLanceRevolution: it should be more concerning that my best friend and my mom are so close_

_[17:49] Hunkules: :)_

_[17:50] LanceLanceRevolution: btw did you need a hand at the shop?_

_[17:50] LanceLanceRevolution: since your business partner decided to fulfill his lifelong dream of becoming bigfoot_

_[17:52] Hunkules: Lol!_

_[17:52] Hunkules: Nah Pidge offered to come in and help me out_

_[17:53] LanceLanceRevolution: I see how it is :’(_

_[17:54] Hunkules: You have your hands full helping out your parents anyway Lance_

_[17:55] Hunkules: Pidge and I can handle it_

_[17:55] LanceLanceRevolution: alright big cat_

_[17:56] LanceLanceRevolution: I gotta help clean up but I’ll talk to you soon buddy_

_[17:57] Hunkules: Give your mom a hug from me_

_[17:58] LanceLanceRevolution: that I can do :)_

****

**_November 25_ **

_[18:16] Hunkules: I'm gonna have Pidge come help out around the shop until you decide you're ready to come back, cool?_

_[18:23] MothmanLives: of course_

_[18:23] MothmanLives: i'm really sorry hunk_

_[18:25] Hunkules: Just remember we care about you, okay?_

_[18:26] Hunkules:  We're all definitely willing to listen if you have shit you need to get off your chest._

_[18:29] MothmanLives: thanks big man_

_[18:32] Hunkules: And don't forget to stay hydrated in the desert!_

**_November 26_ **

_[14:17] quoththepidgeon: have you broken into area 51 and looted its secrets yet_

_[14:19] MothmanLives: i'm actually less than a hundred miles from area 51 as we speak_

_[14:21] quoththepidgeon: YOU GOTTA KEITH_

_[14:22] MothmanLives: would that i could pidge_

_[14:23] quoththepidgeon: youre no fun_

**_November 27_ **

_[11:47] quoththepidgeon: have you found mothman yet_

_[11:47] quoththepidgeon: im assuming youre cryptid hunting since you wont tell me why you left_

_[12:14] MothmanLives: mothman sightings are exclusively localized to west virginia_

_[12:15] quoththepidgeon: my mistake_

_[12:15] quoththepidgeon: which crypid sightings are localized to the southwestern united states_

_[12:16] MothmanLives: chupacabra, mogollon monster, maybe the lake worth monster_

_[12:16] quoththepidgeon: why the fuck would you go to texas_

_[12:17] quoththepidgeon: i can accept you traversing the desert to avoid your problems but why texas and especially why lake worth_

_[12:19] MothmanLives: maybe thats just where the journey’s taking me_

_[12:20] quoththepidgeon: well tell the journey to hurry up and get you there_

_[12:20] quoththepidgeon: i miss you_

_[12:21] MothmanLives: miss you too pidge_

_[12:21] quoththepidgeon: lance_

_[12:38] LanceLanceRevolution: sup_

_[12:38] quoththepidgeon: we need to talk_

_[12:39]_ _LanceLanceRevolution: you can't just give a man a heart attack like that pidge spit it out_

_[12:40] quoththepidgeon: what happened the night of your birthday party_

_[12:41] LanceLanceRevolution: uh, should I be offended that you don’t remember my rad as hell birthday celebration?_

_[12:42] quoththepidgeon: when you walked keith out to his bike_

_[12:42} quoththepidgeon: what happened_

_[12:43] LanceLanceRevolution: uh_

_[12:44] LanceLanceRevolution: he gave me a birthday present_

_[12:44] LanceLanceRevolution: and then you screamed out the door to come unstick the cat_

_[12:45] quoththepidgeon: anything else_

_[12:45] quoththepidgeon: anything unusual_

_[12:45] quoththepidgeon: what did you say_

_[12:46] LanceLanceRevolution: nothing!!_

_[12:46] LanceLanceRevolution: there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary pidge I don’t even know why you would think that_

_[12:46] LanceLanceRevolution: I have no idea why keith felt the need to go find himself in the desert immediately following my birthday party but I know damn well it isnt my fault_

_[12:47] LanceLanceRevolution: I think_

_[12:48] quoththepidgeon: me thinks the lady doth protest too much_

_[12:49] LanceLanceRevolution: did keith say something happened because nothing happened_

_[12:50] quoththepidgeon: wow now i know something happened_

_[12:50] quoththepidgeon: best to spill the beans now_

_[12:51] quoththepidgeon: we both know how dangerous i can be if left curious and in the dark_

_[12:52] LanceLanceRevolution: fuck you pidge nothing happened just fucking drop it_

_[12: 53] quoththepidgeon: i can see ive hit a nerve_

_[12:53] quoththepidgeon: ill talk to you later_

_[12:56] quoththepidgeon: sorry_

**_November 28_ **

_[12:34] quoththepidgeon: squadmas on friday_

_[12:34] quoththepidgeon: my place_

_[12:35] quoththepidgeon: hunk has spent the last week helping me decorate_

_[12:35] quoththepidgeon: also theres currently more food in my fridge than i think i have ever bought in the whole span of my life_

_[12:37] MothmanLives: i know what youre getting at pidge_

_[12:37] MothmanLives: i dont want to get your hopes up and say ill come when i might not_

_[12:38] quoththepidgeon: who misses squad christmas keith??_

_[12:38] quoththepidgeon: what kind of heathen tramples on the sacred bond of friendship and christmas tradition?_

_[12:39] quoththepidgeon: its fine im fine_

_[12:40] quoththepidgeon: my heart is only shattered into a hundred thousand pieces beneath your favorite combat boots_

_[12:41] quoththepidgeon: good thing i havent needed it in years_

_[12:41] MothmanLives: sorry pidge_

**_November 29_ **

_[13:44] quoththepidgeon: do something productive with your life and bring me home a pet chupacabra_

_[20:37] MothmanLives: i’ll see what i can do_

**_November 30_ **

_[23:12] MothmanLives: you up big guy?_

_[23:13] Hunkules: Yeah what’s up?_

 

* * *

 

There’s a knock on Hunk’s door, and he’d be surprised if he hadn’t long ago accustomed himself to his friends showing up at his apartment at all hours of the day.  He is a little surprised to see Keith standing on his doorstep after two weeks away.  He’s a little weather-worn, his hair tied up in a stumpy ponytail, with his leather jacket zipped up to his neck.  Hunk steps back to let Keith inside, since it’s cold out and Hunk’s only in his pajamas.  Once he’s closed the door behind Keith, he wraps him in a friendly hug.  “Welcome back, man,” Hunk says with a warm smile.  “How was your trip?”

“It was nice,” Keith says, unzipping his jacket a little.  “Didn’t quite accomplish anything other than making me want to sleep in my own bed for about a week straight.”

“Didn’t meet the parts distributer?”

“Oh.  Yeah, I did actually.  Their shipping charges negate anything we would have saved switching to them.”

“Ew.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“So what were you hoping to accomplish, then?” Hunk asks carefully.  Keith is a dear friend of his, but he tends to clam up when uncomfortable.

Keith’s mouth twists, almost scowling, but devoid of anger.  “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time,” Hunk says.  “But only if you want to tell it.”

Keith unzips his jacket a little further.  “I kinda… fucked up a little,” he says haltingly.

“You wanna sit down?  I was just making some tea,” Hunk says.

“Tea sounds nice,” Keith admits, stooping down to unlace his boots.  “It’s a lot colder up here than it was in Arizona.”

Hunk laughs.  “Just a little.”

Keith removes his boots and follows Hunk to the kitchen, where the tea kettle is just starting to whistle on the stove.  Hunk takes two oversized mugs out of the cupboard above the fridge, along with a box of teabags.  “Pick your poison,” Hunk says, putting the mugs and the box of tea on the table.  Keith takes a seat at the table and picks a flavor after a little deliberation.  “Which one you got?” Hunk asks.

“Vanilla chai.”

“Ooh, grab one for me, will you?”

Keith nods, plucking a second bag out of the box of tea.  He puts a bag in each mug, twisting the string around the handle so it won’t sink into the water.  Hunk is ready with the water only a moment later, pouring the steaming liquid over the teabags and filling the kitchen with the warm smell of chai tea.

“Milk or sugar?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Hunk nods, stirring a spoonful of sugar into his mug before setting the spoon aside.  “So.”

“I suppose it’s time for me to explain why I left you alone to run our business for two weeks without notice.”

“Only if you want to, man.  You seemed like you had a lot on your mind.”

Keith nods, staring at the tea steeping in his mug.  “So I… I’m not very good at feelings.”

Hunk snorts, trying not to openly laugh.  Keith shoots him a look out of the side of his eye that’s more amused than offended, so Hunk lets himself smile.  “That’s an understatement, buddy.”

Keith rolls his eyes.  “Yeah, okay.  But, I’ve had this… crush… for a while, and it’s been killing me because I’ve had it bad for him for such a long time, but I also don’t want to do anything that would ruin our friendship.”

“Uh-huh,” Hunk says, blowing on his tea to cool it faster.  “And to be clear, we’re talking about Lance, right?”

“Is it that obvious?”

Hunk shrugs.  “I’m sure Lance hasn’t noticed, if that’s any consolation.”

Keith blows a hard breath out through his pursed lips.  “God, I’m such an idiot.”

“Anyway, go on.”

“So.  At his birthday party, when I was leaving, I might have… kissed him.”

“Oh shit.”

“And I… I thought it was gonna be okay.  I thought I could be a grown-up about it, but the second he pulled away I was just flooded by all these doubts and I was suddenly terrified that I ruined everything and I just… left.”

“You left.”

“I didn’t say anything, I just left.”

“To the desert.”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus, Keith.”

“I _knooow_ ,” Keith moans miserably.  He wiggles the teabag up and down in the water, avoiding Hunk’s gaze.  “I just freaked out because that’s what I do, and if I hadn’t ruined things before, I _definitely_ ruined them by leaving the state for two weeks for no reason.”

“Why don’t you try just talking to Lance?”

Keith glances up at Hunk like he’s just grown a second head.  “Uhm, have you met me?”

Hunk shrugs, taking a tiny, careful sip of tea.  “It’s the only way, dude.  You can’t avoid him forever.  Well, technically you could have in the desert, but you’re back now, and since you’re back, there’s no way you’ll be able to avoid him forever.”

“I know,” Keith sighs.  “I wish I could take it back.”

“Really?”

Keith nods.  “I mean.  Not because I didn’t want to.  It was definitely something I’ve been thinking about doing since college.  But… I’d do it differently.  I probably couldn’t avoid freaking out, but I wouldn’t have skipped town like I did.  I don’t know.  I just know I fucked up real good, and Lance probably hates my guts.”

“He doesn’t,” Hunk assures him.

“How do you _know?_ ”

“Because he—” Hunk freezes, face going pale, mug stopping halfway between the table and his mouth.

“Did he tell you?” Keith asks, his expression flooding with horror.

“He uh—might have told me you kissed?”

“Oh my god,” Keith says, thumping his head rhythmically against the table.  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Hey, don’t,” Hunk says, sliding his hand between Keith’s forehead and the table before he can concuss himself.  “He didn’t go into detail.  He was drunk and it slipped out.  He just said you _did_ and he was freaking out, too.”

“Because he thought he’d have to let me down easy,” Keith finishes.  “Fuck.  God, why am I like this?  I’m like the opposite of Midas.  Everything I touch gets ruined.”

“Stop it, Keith,” Hunk says firmly.  “I don’t think your friendship with Lance is ruined.  I think you’re both very flustered and you need to sit down and work this out.  You’re both grown-ups.  You can figure out how to be friends again.  We all watched you go from butting heads constantly to the best of friends in under a year.  You and Lance have a great dynamic, Keith.  You can bounce back.”

Keith draws in a deep breath, squaring his shoulders.  “Yeah, I guess.”

“I just want you to be okay, dude,” Hunk says.  “Can’t have any more unscheduled desert detours in the near future, or we’ll have to put Pidge on the permanent payroll.”

Keith snorts, one corner of his mouth quirking upward.  “Yeah, all right.  No more running away.”  He finally lifts his mug to his lips and drinks about half the tea in one go, as Hunk sips delicately at his own.  “Thanks, Hunk.”

* * *

 

 

**_December 1_ **

**_Group Chat: betting pool_ **

_[07:58] quoththepidgeon: i bet youre all wondering why i dredged up this ancient college group chat_

_[08:01] ShiroToHero: I assume you know something we don’t._

_[08:02] quoththepidgeon: what else is new_

_[08:03] Hunkules:_ _This isn’t going to embarrass them is it?_

 _[08:03] Hunkules:_ _We shouldn’t be too preemptive here Pidge_

_[08:04] quoththepidgeon: things are coming to a head hunk_

_[08:04] quoththepidgeon: its time to lay our final bets_

_[08:05] quoththepidgeon: ten bucks says they finally suck repressed face at squadmas_

_[08:06] ShiroToHero: New Years, maybe.  At least they have the tradition to fall back on.  And a whole bottle of peppermint schnapps, if last year is any indication._

_[08:07] quoththepidgeon: we have ten bucks on new years_

_[08:07] quoththepidgeon: allura care to cast a vote? i know youve seen all of these_

_[08:08] AllurNothing: Hm.  I’d bet new year’s as well.  The midnight kiss tradition just gives them too nice of an out, and Keith isn’t even back in town yet, is he?_

_[08:09] quoththepidgeon: correct_

_[08:10] AllurNothing: He might not even be back for our Christmas celebrations._

_[08:10] quoththepidgeon: hell be there_

_[08:10] ShiroToHero: Did he say he’ll be there?_

_[08:10] quoththepidgeon: well no_

_[08:11] quoththepidgeon: but he wouldnt miss christmas guys nobody misses christmas_

_[08:11] Hunkules:_ _I gotta agree with Allura here.  Keith probably won’t be back for the party._

_[08:11] quoththepidgeon: is that three for new years im hearing?_

_[08:12] Hunkules:_ _I’m not betting this time around, Pidge.  I’m out._

_[08:12] quoththepidgeon: its been five years hunk!! you cant bail right when its all about to hit the fan!!!_

_[08:13] ShiroToHero: Pidge._

_[08:13] quoththepidgeon: listen_

_[08:14] quoththepidgeon: keith disappears the day after lances birthday party_

_[08:14] quoththepidgeon: after asking lance to walk him to his bike no less_

_[08:15] quoththepidgeon: lance all but bit my head off when i asked him what happened at his party_

_[08:15] quoththepidgeon: this is happening_

_[08:15] quoththepidgeon: it took five fucking years but its happening_

_[08:16] Hunkules:_ _I’m still out_

 _[08:16] Hunkules:_ _I’m sorry Pidge, my conscience can’t take it anymore_

_[08:17] quoththepidgeon: laaaaaaaaame_

_[08:17] quoththepidgeon: fine_

_[08:17] quoththepidgeon: but youll all eat your words when keith shows up at my house this weekend and eats lances face off_

_[08:18] Hunkules:_ _I really don’t want to see that_

_[08:18] AllurNothing: Same._

_[08:18] ShiroToHero: Agreed._

_[08:19] quoththepidgeon: see you guys tomorrow_

_[08:19] quoththepidgeon: bring cash_

_[08:23] quoththepidgeon: cant come help you today sorry_

_[08:24] quoththepidgeon: my dumbass brother forgot to tell me his flight was coming in TODAY_

_[08:24] quoththepidgeon: so i have to go pick him up from the airport_

_[08:25] Hunkules: It’s cool_

_[08:25] Hunkules: I think I have things in hand for now_

_[08:26] Hunkules: Since we’ll be closed up tomorrow for the Christmas party anyway_

_[08:27] quoththepidgeon: alright just text me if you need a hand later on  
_

_[08:28] Hunkules: Will do_

_[08:28] Hunkules: Thanks pidge_


	3. Chapter 3

The smell of vanilla and cinnamon hangs warm and comforting in the air, enveloping Keith the moment he reaches the front door.  Few people take Christmas more seriously than Pidge, and he is certain on the other side of that door lies a winter wonderland.  From what Hunk was telling him yesterday, after showing up on Keith’s doorstep with a fresh pot of Keith’s favorite soup and a six-pack of beer, Pidge had brought back the “decoration exchange” tradition this year.  It was something they’d established in college, where they would all help each other decorate dorm rooms until everyone’s rooms looked like Christmas partied too hard and woke up hungover.  The others had been busy, and Keith had been gone, but Pidge and Hunk had helped decorate each other’s places.

In college, along with the decoration exchange, they’d started their tradition of celebrating early in December.  “Squadmas” was their way of having a Christmas bash before they all parted ways for the semester.  Once they’d all graduated, they’d still kept it up.  It was an unspoken rule that no one missed squad holidays, and even if Hunk said no one would blame him for skipping a year, and even if Keith was a grown-ass man running away from his problems, he wasn’t about to disappoint his best friend on her favorite holiday.  She might only be five foot three, but hell hath no fury like a Holt scorned.

The faint chime of the doorbell echoes through Pidge’s little townhouse and finds its way back to Keith as he waits on the step.  It is only noon, but overcast, and a light snow is falling, adding to the thick layer coating the ground.  Keith shoves his hands deeper into his pockets.

The door is flung open and Pidge’s tiny frame stands in the doorway, grinning like mad.  “Keith!” she shrieks, lunging forward to wrap him in a tight hug.  “I knew you’d be back!”

Keith gives a little smile and wraps his arms around Pidge in return.  “Hey Pidge,” he says warmly.  “Merry Christmas.”

“Come in, come in!” Pidge says, backing away only enough to pull Keith out of the snow and into the house.  “Everyone’s here.”

“Did I miss much?” Keith asks as he strips off his snow-laden jacket.

Pidge shakes her head, taking Keith’s coat and hanging it from a hook on the wall beside the others.  “The food isn’t quite ready yet, and Hunk was convinced you would have told us if you were coming back for this, so we didn’t put anything off because of you.  But _I_ was waiting for you,” Pidge adds with a grin.  “Obviously.”

Keith shakes his head, stretching out a hand to ruffle Pidge’s hair.  “Missed you too.”

“How was cryptid hunting?”

“Hot,” Keith replies succinctly.

“Did you bring home a chupacabra for me?”

“Sadly, no.”

“Shit.  Well, there’s always next Christmas.  Come on, everyone’s hanging out in the living room.”

Pidge hauls Keith around the corner and into living room where a pine tree almost half the size of the room itself had been erected in one corner.  There are paper snowflakes dangling from the ceiling, lights and tinsel draped everywhere, and the peek Keith catches of the dining room before Pidge sweeps him past it promises that it is just as decked out as the rest of the house.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Pidge,” Keith comments casually.

“Hunk and I brought back the decoration exchange,” Pidge replies.  “I’m not the only one still super into Christmas around here.”

“I’m mostly in it for the food,” Hunk says on a laugh as Pidge and Keith make their appearance.  He winks at Keith, but beyond a simple, “Welcome back, Keith,” doesn’t comment on Keith’s decision to make an appearance.  Keith figures Hunk probably knew anyway.  Hunk is sprawled on the couch, sandwiched between his girlfriend, Shay, and Pidge’s brother, Matt.  Shiro and Allura are seated in the over-sized chair, and Keith can’t quite tell if Allura is sitting on the arm of the chair or on Shiro’s lap.

Keith’s attention, however, is drawn immediately to the Christmas tree.  Lance is on the floor, practically laying underneath the tree as he plays with a low-hanging ornament like a cat.  Keith tries not to express any physical reaction to seeing Lance, but he can feel his body tense slightly.  Keith looks away.

“I should go check on those potatoes,” Hunk says, pushing himself up off the couch.  “Gimme a hand, Shay?”

Shay nods, but before she can stand, Lance is on his feet, quick as a wink.  “I gotcha, buddy.”

“Uh, okay, Lance,” Hunk says, visibly confused but continuing on his way.

Lance skirts past Keith without making eye contact, and in that moment, Keith fully understands that this is just as uncomfortable for Lance as it is for him.

Shit.

“I’ll make sure Hunk and Lance have things under control,” Shay says, standing to follow the guys out of the room.  “I believe dinner should be ready momentarily, everyone.”

Pidge seizes the opportunity to settle into the space Hunk vacated and props  her feet in her brother’s lap.  Matt grabs her feet with the intent to tickle and Pidge lets out a shriek, kicking him away.  Shiro lets out a hearty chuckle at the interaction and shifts in his chair.  Allura lifts herself a little to allow his movement, and reveals she is, indeed, on the arm of Shiro’s chair.  Not that it changes much about their proximity. 

“So Keith, how was your trip?”

“It was good,” the man in question replies, taking a seat on the ottoman near Shiro and Allura.  “Saw some sights, made some contacts.  Just me and my best girl on the open road.”

“How’s Lola?”

“Still purring like a kitten,” Keith says with a grin.  “I’ll give her a tune-up once I get back into the shop.”

“I can’t believe you took your motorcycle on a road trip,” Allura says, a tone of disbelief to her voice.

“Everyone should try it,” Keith says.

“In November?!”

Shiro laughs, settling his non-prosthetic elbow on Allura’s lap.  “It’s Keith.  He’s the non-conventional type.”

“That’s fair,” Allura hums.  “You had a good time, I suppose that’s what matters.”

“We were starting to think you’d never come back,” Matt says from the couch.

“I knew I’d incur the wrath of Pidge if I stayed away too long,” Keith says lightly.  He tries not to look toward the kitchen, but Pidge still gives him a look that tells Keith she knows exactly what he is thinking, even without the admission of his overwhelming desire to stay away and avoid his life forever.

“Damn straight,” she says instead, over a soft chorus of chuckles. 

“Food’s ready, guys,” Lance calls, popping his head around the corner.  “If you’re not all at the table by the time we get everything moved from the kitchen, I’m starting without you.”

“Guess that’s our cue to get a move on,” Shiro says with a chuckle, nudging Allura off her perch so he can stand up without knocking her over.

Hunk and Shay are just laying out the last of the feast they had prepared when the others trickle in from the living room.  Keith snags a seat beside Shiro, about as far from Lance as he can manage. 

“It smells amazing, Hunk,” Shiro compliments with a wide smile. 

“Shay was a huge help,” Hunk says proudly, pulling her close to his side for a quick peck on the cheek.

Shay smiles sweetly, her dark skin showing no signs of a blush.  “It was no trouble,” she says shyly.  “Hunk is an excellent teacher.”

“Thanks to both of you,” Allura says, nodding resolutely as she takes a seat on Shiro’s other side.

“Dig in, guys!” Hunk commands with a grin, handing the mashed potatoes off to Matt and taking his seat at the foot of the table.

Squishing eight people around the dining set Pidge had rescued from Goodwill makes for an interesting time, but fortunately, none of them mind sharing personal space in exchange for Hunk’s cooking and some good company.  They spend the better part of an hour sharing small talk, but the question on everyone’s mind, “what the hell was Keith up to in the desert for two weeks” remains blatantly unanswered, though not for lack of curiosity.  When they’ve finally finished eating and chatting, Pidge makes it known that there’s a hockey game starting in half an hour that she is not intending to miss.

Since Hunk and Shay had done all the cooking, Shiro insists the rest of them will all pitch in to clean up.  He volunteers himself and Allura to clear the table, and Pidge and Matt quickly offer to put all the food away, leaving Lance and Keith on dish duty. 

Great.

Keith lingers a bit in the dining room as Shiro and Allura gather the dishes on the table.  Through the short hallway connecting the kitchen and the dining room, Keith can clearly hear Lance bargaining with Pidge to swap places.

“Trade jobs with me, dude.  Please?”

“No, Lance, I want to watch the hockey game.  You can deal with pruny hands for once in your life.”

“I don’t wanna be stuck in the kitchen with—” Lance cuts himself off sharply, probably looking around for Keith.  Keith rolls his eyes from his spot securely out of sight of the kitchen.  As if he’s any more interested in being stuck on dish duty with Lance.

“Suck it up, Lance,” Pidge says firmly.  “I’m not missing the opening face-off.”

 “Matt? Buddy? Help me out here?”

“Don’t do it, Matt,” Pidge warns.

“Sorry Lance.”

“Are you hearing this?” Keith mutters to Shiro.

Shiro casts a glance at Keith saying he is not sympathetic.  “What happened between you two after you left Lance’s birthday party?”

“Nothing,” Keith says.  It’s too quick of a response, and they both know it.

“Listen, I’m not going to pry,” Shiro says calmly.  “But if there’s bad blood between you and Lance, I’d strongly advise you do something about it.  You’re both grown men, and you’ve been friends for far too long to let it all go now.”

“You know what he’s like, Shiro,” Keith says, his voice low and urgent as Shiro heads toward the kitchen.  “Some people just… don’t get along.”

“You and Lance aren’t those people, Keith,” Allura pipes up.  “You’ve proven it before.  Whatever happened… I know you two can work past it.”

With that, Allura picks up the last stack of dishes and follows Shiro into the kitchen, leaving Keith alone in the dining room.  Keith grits his teeth together and steels himself before finally facing his fated dish-duty assignment.

When Keith rounds the corner, the first thing he sees is Lance seated on the counter as Matt shoves a stack of leftovers into the fridge.  The rest of the people in the house have scattered, presumably toward the television to turn on the hockey game that has Pidge’s shorts in a twist.  “Wash or dry?” Keith asks bluntly, not looking at Lance.

“I’ll dry,” Lance says, pushing himself off the counter to land with a thump of socked feet on linoleum.  Keith turns toward the sink, running hot water and dropping in the first stack of dishes.  As he washes, he hands clean dishes to Lance, one at a time, who towels them off and put them away.  They work in silence for all of ten minutes before Keith can physically feel Lance tensing up beside him, never able to let peaceful quiet linger long.  Keith inhales slowly and waits for Lance to decide on whatever bullshit he is about to say to break the silence.

“How was your trip?” Lance asks finally.  Keith glances at him out of the side of his eyes.  He hadn’t expected Lance to beat around the bush.

“Was good,” Keith grunts, passing Lance a plate.  “The desert’s nice this time of year.”

Lance nodded, rubbing the dish dry with a little too much vigor.

Keith keeps washing at a steady pace, wrestling with his own mind as he tries to decide whether he should extend an olive branch and offer up more small talk.  Before he can decide, Lance suddenly spins on his heel toward Keith and blurts out, “What did I do wrong?”

Keith turns toward Lance, surprised enough to actually look at him.  “What?”

“Like, did I read the whole situation wrong? Did you not want me to kiss you? Was it just that bad, like, I know I don’t have a whole lot of experience, I don’t know, and it was pretty short, but I still thought it was nice, but maybe you didn’t think so?  What—”

“Lance.”  Keith isn’t sure if his expression mirrors the way his chest feels like it’s been ripped into.  “You… you think you kissed _me_?”

Lance looks as confused as Keith feels.  “Yeah.  I thought… I mean, there was all that shit about the universe and then you asked if I wanted to tell you what my wish was and you were in my head and I just thought, ‘goddamn, if the universe isn’t doing this, then I have to’ and.  Yeah.”

“Kissing me was your birthday wish?”

“Well…” Lance flushes dark red and rubs a hand across the back of his neck.  “Just… you in general, kind of.  I just… I know you think there’s no such thing as a universal wish factory,” he says.  “But it’s been two whole weeks since I took matters into my own hands and I’m calling bullshit on your idea that the universe doesn’t grant wishes, because trying to take matters into my own hands backfired tremendously and maybe cost me one of my best friends.”

Keith stares down at the sink of dishwater for a long moment, trying to wrap his brain around this turn of events.  The memory of Lance’s birthday party etched itself into Keith’s brain and refused to fade no matter how many miles of desert Keith traversed.

“We should finish the dishes,” Keith says, picking up a plate.  Keith can practically feel Lance deflate beside him before he glances toward his way.  “We can talk about it after.”

Lance nods slowly, accepting both the plate and olive branch Keith is extending.  They finish the dishes in a silence that would have been awkward if they hadn’t both been thinking through everything they wanted to explain to fix this weird tension between them and process what the fuck had actually happened when Lance walked Keith out to his motorcycle that night.  Once all the dishes are clean and put away, Lance offers Keith the towel to dry his hands on. 

“Can we go outside?” Keith requests.  “I need a smoke.”

Lance agrees, and after peeking down the hall toward the living room where everyone else is gathered, they grab their shoes and jackets and sneak out the front door.  It’s still snowing, but the steps leading up to the porch are sheltered enough that they’re clear of snow.  Keith takes a seat on the top step, digging his lighter out of his jeans pocket before tapping a cigarette out of the carton.  Lance sits beside him as he lights up and takes a drag. 

“Want one?” Keith offers.  Lance nods, accepting a cigarette from the carton and holding it steady as Keith lights it for him.  They smoke in silence for a long moment, the only sound being their quiet inhales of smoke and the gentle tapping of ashes into the snow.

“I’ll fess up right now and admit we had a betting pool going,” Lance says, breaking the silence.  “Pidge had her money on you bringing her home a capybara and Hunk said you’d probably get into a fist fight with desert bigfoot or whatever.”

“Do you mean… chupacabra?”

“Is that a mythical desert creature?”

Keith rolls his eyes.  “You mean chupacabra.”

“Well, whatever it was, I didn’t have to give Pidge or Hunk 20 dollars, so good job.”

Keith shakes his head, puffing smoke out of his mouth as he lets the nicotine sooth his nerves.

“What’d you really go out there for?” Lance asks, tipping his head ever so slightly toward Keith.  “It obviously wasn’t just a… bucket list road trip.”

Keith hesitates.  “No,” he admits finally.  “I needed to figure some things out.  Feelings.  I’ve never been good with those.”

Lance is oddly still beside him.  “Did you get it sorted out?”

Keith takes a deep drag of his cigarette, watching the tip turn to ash and embers.  “Not really.  Well, not in the way I was hoping.  I guess I just drove two thousand miles and smoked a dozen packs to figure out that this isn’t the kind of thing I can avoid until it works itself out.”

Lance is staring at Keith, waiting.

“I was the one who kissed you,” Keith says, just to fill the expectant silence.  Keith cannot bring himself to look at Lance, with his stupidly pretty blue eyes, and instead stares out at the snow-covered street in front of them.  He takes another long drag of his cigarette and holds it for a few seconds.  “Or maybe we both leaned in at the same time, I don’t know.  I just… you look good with snow in your hair, and kissing you was very much intentional on my end.”

“Really?” Lance breathes, an indecipherable blend of emotions running across his face that Keith doesn’t look up to see.  “But you—you changed your mind.”

“I panicked,” Keith whispers, not able to do anything else.  “I always panick.”

“Why?”

The question pulls Keith’s gaze away from the street until he’s staring back at Lance in confusion.  “Because anxiety?”

“Was it just anxiety, or was it something else?” Lance counters.  “Like… was it anxiety like ‘shit, I fucked up’ or anxiety like ‘shit, did I fuck up’?”

Keith sucks in smoke he fixes his gaze on Lance’s jaw and tries to come up with an answer to the question.  He taps the last cigarette out of the carton and lights it from the end of the one in his mouth.  “That’s exactly the question that has had me chain-smoking like a motherfucker again."

“Do you regret it?”

“No,” Keith says, the word tumbling out of his mouth as easily as the smoke from his cigarette.  “But as soon as Pidge yelled and you pulled away, my brain shot about a dozen different ways our friendship could end on the spot.  Survival instincts kicked in.”

“Since when does Keith Kogane pick flight over fight?” Lance says with a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.  He takes a small puff of his own cigarette, causing the cherry red ember at the end to brighten.

Keith lets out a laugh that’s more like a muffled scoff, but Lance’s joke lightens the pressure in Keith’s chest just enough that he can breathe again.  “I had just kissed you.  Decking you immediately after would have sent the wrong message.”

“No shit,” Lance says, a laugh bubbling up through his speech.

“Not that immediately taking a two-week detour through the southwestern United States sent a much better one,” Keith admits, tapping ash into the snow on the side of the steps.

“Well, that was a fuck-up,” Lance says.  “But it took us both a bit by surprise.”

Another silence falls, like they’re both trying to figure out what to say next.  Lance’s cigarette is almost gone.

“So where do we go from here?”

Lance twists his mouth to one side, considering Keith’s question.  “I guess that depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not you’re interested in kissing me again.”

“I’m interested,” Keith says slowly, glancing down at the second cigarette he's reduced to the butt in under ten minutes. He drops it to the step beside the other and grinds it out with his boot.  “Are you?”

Lance drops his cigarette to the ground without hesitation and squashes it with the toe of his sneaker.  “You have no fucking clue, Kogane,” he says, fisting the lapel of Keith’s jacket in one hand and surging forward to close the distance between them.

The initial contact is very reminiscent of their first kiss – the gentle press of warm lips – but Keith’s lips part ever so slightly and Lance doesn’t hesitate to capture Keith’s lower lip between both of his and getting that first taste of something distinctly Keith along with the taste of nicotine. Keith’s hand finds its way to Lance’s face, cupping the strong line of his jaw and holding him close.  Keith’s motion prompts Lance to slide closer, using his tight grip in the leather to pull Keith the rest of the way. Lance is the first to let the kiss deepen further, and Keith is perfectly okay with that turn of events.

Once again, they're broken apart by Pidge yelling. “I fucking called it!”

 They break apart to look at her as she stands just feet behind them, front door flung open and a wild expression on her face. “Shiro! Allura!” she screeches, spinning on her heel and racing deeper into the house. “You owe me ten bucks!!”

Keith removes his hand from where his cold fingers have found themselves tangled in Lance’s short hair and moves to back up, but Lance’s grip on his jacket tightens. “Don't you fucking dare,” he growls.

Keith smiles and rubs the tip of his nose with a finger. “Lesson learned. But let's go inside, it's cold as balls out here.”

Lance eyes him suspiciously, but lets him up. Keith picks the three cold cigarette butts off the ground to dispose of inside, and grabs Lance’s hand to weave their fingers together. Lance smiles and presses his nose into the leather on Keith's shoulder. “See, this is how last time could have gone,” Lance says.

“Since when do we do things the easy way?” Keith teases. “God, it's like you've never even met us.”

“Fair,” Lance hums, a smile spread across his face.  “I think it was worth it, though."

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on tumblr - professionalmomfriend.tumblr.com
> 
> i need friends in the Voltron fandom


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